Say Something
by CelticGames4
Summary: Based off of a Spamano cosplay Youtube video. I own nothing of any of it, I just put it into words. A one-shot that illustrates what would happen if Spain were abolished and Romano had to deal with it. The video absolutely destroys your feels. Watch: and read: at your own risk.


_**A/N: I saw this video on Youtube and I felt wildly inspired so I decided to write a one-shot to go along with it. I've never written Hetalia fanfiction before so hopefully this goes well. **_

_**Here's the link to the video. It really is wonderfully done. watch?v=O0qCO66yjYc&feature=player_embedded**_

_**I don't own Hetalia, any of these characters, or really, the plot for the story. I just wanted to take the video and put it into words. There was no talking so I did my best. This is my interpretation of it, so please tell me what you think! **_

_~Say something_

It was just another night. Just another night, right?

Spain had been weak for a while: and Romano knew it: but Spain was strong, he'll be okay. Of course he'll be okay. It's just another night, after all. That's why Romano figured it wasn't necessary to carry his phone with him.

Spain, however, wasn't feeling very well. He knew something bad was happening. He knew the letter he'd been given didn't have good news within it, but he looked at it anyways.

The words stared back at him.

Reino de España: Abolished_. _

His boss had warned him that something like this would happen, but, being the carefree person he is, Spain never really believed it. He couldn't be abolished, he was right there, and he always would be! He's Spain, he's famous and formidable, surely that counted for something, right?

But now, now those hopes are gone. Spain reads the rest of the letter but his eyes can't stop finding the top words. He knows he's been ruined, and he's bound to be gone soon. He can't say he knows how that works, but now there is no Spain, which means that Spain might not have much time left.

So, he does the first thing he knows how to do: he picks up his phone and he calls Romano. Romano, his best friend, his love. Romano, the only person Spain trusts completely, the only person Spain would want to speak his last words to, if that's what's coming.

Spain tries to hold it together, waits to hear Romano's voice, to tell him what to do, because that's all he needs right now. Just to hear Romano speak, to tell him what to do…

A pain stabs Spain's chest as Romano's voicemail clicks on.

~.~.

Meanwhile, Romano's sitting by himself. He's thinking about the other countries that have ceased to exist, and he knows that it can't happen to Spain. It can't, he's much too… Spain for that.

His phone buzzes and Romano sees that familiar name calling him.

Not feeling in the mood to talk, not in the mood to do much of anything with anyone, Romano sends the call to voicemail, sighing to himself.

He knows that Spain must be calling to invite him over, and if he heard Romano sounding so worried, he would immediately want to see him, to reassure him, to smile and to make him smile. _Spain really can be annoying sometimes, _Romano sighs to himself.

He'll visit Spain later, and then he'll let the older nation cheer him up. But Romano doesn't want to have anything to do with Spain right now, or Italy, or anyone else. He wants to be by himself, something he knows Spain will understand when he explains later.

Romano sighs to himself. He's in love with Spain, that _bastard, _and he hates it. He hates that Spain can make him smile, and he hates that Spain knows so much about him, and he hates that there's someone in this world Romano would die to save. Romano doesn't want to be so vulnerable, but Spain _makes_ him that way. It's something about the way Spain's always protected Romano and cared for him, something about the way that Spain always makes him feel like he's worth something, even if he's not outrageously talented or sweet like his brother Italy. Yes, that's why Romano likes Spain so much.

Spain's never given up on him before, no matter what, and Romano finds comfort in the fact that he'll always be good enough in Spain's eyes, no matter how shitty and how big of a mess he is.

~.~.

"Romano," Spain says weakly, into the phone. "I know you must be doing something very important, but I really need you right now. I would like to hear your voice-" he hiccups with tears forming in the back of his throat. "I would like to see your face… I really need you to be here… So call me as soon as you get this message, please…" he begs weakly. Then he puts down the phone and surrenders to the hot tears that bubble out of his eyes.

He sits on his bed and tries again, and again he gets the voicemail. "Damn it Romano," he whispers to himself tearily, but just mumbles, "Call me back," into the phone.

Spain gasps as another searing pain burns in his chest. He walks over to the mirror and stares at his reflection. Spain has no idea for how much longer he'll survive.

He's going to be gone soon if his boss doesn't get his shit together! Spain stares at his reflection, realizing that it's probably too late for him to be saved.

And the worst part? Romano's not picking up his phone. Spain could very well die without being able to hug the younger country one last time. Spain realizes, with horror, that he could be gone without telling Romano how much he loves him.

_I have to hold it together, _Spain thinks to himself, but it's hard to do that when everything else is falling apart. Spain feels weak, and he buries his face in his hands, quivering with tears that will soon turn to loud sobs if he doesn't get to see Romano.

_Hold it together, dammit, hold it together! _the Romano in Spain's head screams at him. Spain takes a shaky, jittering breath through his teeth.

He's really not sure how much longer he can.

Spain closes his eyes, trying to hold onto the memories.

_~.~._

_Spain always tried to let Romano know how much he meant to him. It's because he knew that Romano was always so harsh on himself in comparing himself and Italy. _

_Romano didn't like letting anyone see him when he was upset with himself, so he often sat alone. When Spain sat next to him that day, Romano looked over and immediately hissed, "Go away, bastard." _

_But Spain did not go away. He never left. In fact, Spain reached over and wrapped a blanket nice and snug around the two of them. The older country didn't say a word that whole time, he just sat there and let Romano be sad, but also let him know that he was not alone. _

_Romano was never alone. _

_The younger country was determined to ignore Spain, in hopes that he would go away, but Spain did not speak, did not move. He knew Romano better than anyone, and knew that the best way to comfort him would be to do just that. Romano already knew what Spain thought about him, and saying it again won't convince Romano that any of it is true. _

_Eventually, Romano gets tired, and his heart feels so heavy it practically weighs him down. He decides that, if Spain isn't leaving, he might as well take advantage of the company. Romano hesitates, but he slowly leans up against Spain and puts his head on the older country's shoulder, closing his eyes sleepily. Spain smiles and leans his head on Romano's, to let him know that he's comfortable just like that. _

_~.~._

_The turtle was an object of mutual affection for both countries. A little teal bobble-head turtle. It is an object that makes Romano think of Spain. An object that automatically gives him comfort, knowing that he really isn't ever alone. _

_After a while of sitting still, Spain reaches over and grabs it, offering it to Romano with a typical Spain smile on his face. Romano stares at the turtle before making a face of annoyance. "Really Spain?" _

_Spain just smiles because he knows that Romano likes the turtle and just isn't saying it. He knows because the littler country always sleeps with it. _

_Romano snatches the turtle from Spain's hands, making a face. Spain just laughs, remembering why he fell in love with Romano and loving every second of it._

_After a while, even Romano smiles. _

_That was the first time they kissed. The first time it was just a peck on the lips, and they decided they liked the feeling and immediately kissed again. Romano loves their kisses, though he will never admit it._

_Romano is grateful for Spain, but never thanks him. It would be far too out of character for feisty little Romano. _

_Besides, Spain already knows how grateful Romano is without him even saying it, anyways._

~.~.

Spain tries to call Romano one last time. He's trying his best not to cry, though his chest is now searing with constant, intense pain. Nobody picks up, so Spain mumbles weakly, "I never realized, but I'm feeling really small. This was all… Over my head. Pff, guess I know nothing at all. I, uh, I love you."

Spain hangs up, a feeling of panic rising in his aching chest. What if that's the last time Romano hears him say it!? Over voicemail!? Spain coughs and feels the metallic taste of blood on his tongue. He ignores it.

"I have to get to Romano," he says, his voice failing him and reducing him to nothing but a weak, quavering whisper. He's already feeling light-headed, but Spain can't let that stop him and he knows it. He gets up, "I… have to."

~.~.

Romano, meanwhile, walks back from where he was sitting with his hands in his pockets.

He knows that he should probably drop by and visit Spain, so he walks to Spain's house in the moonlight. Not a thought came to him that Spain was anything other than perfectly okay, so he didn't hurry at all.

He walks over and knocks on Spain's door. When the smiling country didn't answer for quite some time, Romano felt confused. He wasn't panicking yet, after all, there are plenty of reasons as to why Spain might not answer his door. However, when the younger country tried the door, he found it unlocked, which is odd for Spain.

He enters the house and walks up the stairs, confused and starting to get a little worried.

"Spain?" he goes up the stairs two at a time, telling himself that Spain is just in the shower and can't hear him.

He pokes his head in the bathroom, but notices that it's empty.

"Spain!" he says, seriously worried now. Romano scolded himself for being so worried. _He's probably just sleeping. _

When he went to the bedroom, he found it to be empty.

Spain, meanwhile, was on his way down the stairs, having heard Romano enter. He tried to yell but was feeling much too weak. Instead, it came out as a weak whisper. "Romano."

Suddenly, Spain got astronomically weaker. He stumbled down the stairs, trying to stay in it. Romano was so close, Spain could hear him upstairs, yelling, "Spain! SPAIN! COME OUT JACKASS!" Spain tried to hold it together, tried to stop the tears that were streaming out of his eyes onto his cheeks, but it wasn't working. Suddenly, Spain's vision began to go white. His world was fading, and he hasn't yet gotten to see, to feel, to talk to Romano.

He coughed weakly, his entire mouth filled with the metallic taste of blood, and Spain knew in the back of his head that this was the end of him. He fell down the rest of the stairs and lay on the ground, too weak to move. His mouth started to gape open, his vision started to turn white, but Spain was not ready to go yet. He wasn't ready to die, not without Romano.

And yet, this was it.

Spain took a last, quavering, burning breath, deciding to make his last thought Romano and his turtle. Spain exhaled, and his breath wasn't all expelled before his eyes closed for the last time.

~.~.

Romano heard the noise and ran down the stairs. "Spain?" he asked, and then he saw the body, laying at an unnatural angle, blood pouring out of the mouth and staining the white tile crimson red.

Romano's eyes widened, his heart rate picked up, he saw his entire world crashing before him, and he did not know what to do. He took a hesitant step forward, and another, until finally his body caught up to his mind and he ran to Spain, collapsing at his side.

"Spain!?" Romano felt panicked like he never has before. He shook the other country, breath coming faster. "A-Alright bastard," he said quietly, breath coming in short gasps, "Very funny, get up." He knew Spain wouldn't pull a joke on him like this: and if so, certainly not for this long. But, there was still a piece of Romano that expected him to grin one of his trademark Spain-grins and sit up, laughing and saying, "Gotcha."

No such thing happened. Romano's stomach flopped, tears finally coming to his eyes. "Spain," he whispered, in more pain than he's ever been in before in his life. No war could compare to this. Romano was sure that death could barely compare to this.

Romano leaned down on the body, desperately begging Spain to breathe. Desperately trying to hear a heart beating that would never beat again. It was pointless, but Romano didn't care. More and more tears started to fight their way out of Romano's eyes, and he let them. He never cried in front of Spain, but now he wish he had, because he knew Spain would've helped him.

He wrapped his arms around the body, pulling it into his lap, willing for the green eyes to open though he knew they wouldn't.

"Spain," Romano choked out, tears streaming down his cheeks, "Please… Say something… Spain!"

Spain's body just laid still, perfectly still, in Romano's arms.

Romano let out a loud cry, shaking and jittering with tears. "Spain…" was all he could say. There were so many things he should've said, should've done, that he didn't.

Romano thought back, to all the happy memories he had made with Spain. The older country had been his best friend, and over-affectionate (in Romano's opinion, but at least he wasn't France, right?) boyfriend.

He thought back to all those times when Spain would hug him and Romano would make noises of disgust, pushing Spain away and complaining loudly. Spain always laughed and made comments about how cute he was, and Romano always hated that. But somewhere, in the depths of his heart, he held those compliments very closely.

He thought back to those times when Spain would say how cute he looked and that they should take a picture to remember the day. They both held the camera but Spain always kissed Romano as they took the picture, and Romano always kissed back, then scolded him for taking a picture of them kissing, though he secretly held onto the pictures so he'd never forget the feeling of it.

Romano wondered if Spain thought he hated him, in his last dying moments. Romano never got to tell him how much he loved and appreciated everything Spain did for him. When nobody else was there, Spain was there. When nobody else cared, Spain cared. When everyone else gave up, Spain encouraged Romano. And Romano really appreciated it, even though he always said how much he hated it.

Spain had to have known the things Romano secretly loved, or else he would've stopped doing them. Even so, guilt stabs Romano like a dagger.

He feels broken, lost, he will never be complete again without Spain there. He cries out, loudly and repeatedly, begging Spain to wake up, but knows that it will never happen again. He holds the body close to him; the body he's seen all of, though he'll never tell anyone about the night that it happened. He knew the body: and the soul in it: so well, inside and out, and now it's all gone. The only person that could ever keep Romano sane and in line, and he's gone.

Romano feels sick, but he doesn't let go of Spain. Maybe he thinks that, if he holds the body long enough in his arms, it will come back to life again. Maybe he is just attached and not ready to say goodbye. Both are correct, Romano doesn't want to say goodbye.

_This has to be a bad dream, _the grief-stricken and broken little country thinks to himself, crying out and rocking back and forth, feeling Spain's hair in his hand.

If only it had been.

~.~.

Now Romano's dressed up nice. He has his hair neatly done, except for that one curl that will never cooperate.

He swallows hard, biting his lip to keep the tears away. He does not want to cry in front of the others. He knows they wouldn't laugh at him, but he doesn't care. Once everyone else has gone from the graveyard, Romano steps up to the grave, alone.

The love of his life, his whole world, everything he ever wanted and more, is laying in the ground beneath his feet. Romano whimpers at the thought. Then he finally leaves the token that he fiddled with through the funeral. The teal, bobble-headed turtle. The one that resembled Spain. The one that resembled happiness.

It used to be a happy reminder that he was never alone. But now, Romano knows that it is a cruel reminder that now he is. Romano bites his lip hard to keep from crying as his hand releases the turtle onto the cold rock. He will have to keep going, no matter how hard it is.

Romano makes an effort to smile now, but his lip only goes up halfway. He knows that Spain loved to see him smile, and wouldn't want him to stop. Even though he's not there to see it, Romano knows that he can. Romano accidentally lets a tear go, and it is the only one that glides down his cheek that night.

Then he swallows hard, taking a last look at the grave.

His whisper is weak and quavering.

"Goodbye."

Then, without another word, without another thought, Romano turns around and leaves.

~.~.

That night, even after the ceremonies that paid tribute to Spain's life, Romano sits by himself. He hasn't let anyone hug him or even touch him all day, and he's barely talked to anyone. He had a brief conversation with Italy that morning, and has said more than a couple choice words to anyone who had the courage to give him their condolences.

He sits by himself in the night sky, just like he did on the night Spain was taken away from him. He lets the tears go now, and decides to pick up his phone and listen to the voicemails Spain left on that night. Hearing that familiar voice shatters Romano's heart, but he makes himself listen to the whole thing anyways.

The last words Spain said to him were an _I love you. _Romano breaks down at hearing him say it, realizing that Spain never got to hear Romano say, "I love you too." Spain's words play in Romano's head and he knows he'll never ever stop thinking about them, and he'll never ever stop regretting, and he'll probably never ever stop hurting, either.

He feels a familiar sensation just then, the feeling of a gentle pressure on his cheek that was Spain's lips. Romano savors the feeling, remembering how it felt, rubbing his cheek with a hand softly.

Italy went on about how he couldn't imagine if that were Germany and how his heart was breaking, but he'll never understand. Italy expects Romano to forget about Spain within a couple months. They all do.

But Romano will never forget, and he never wants to. Spain is the only country that ever treated him well, the only country who fought for him, and protected him. Spain is the only country that has ever made him feel like he was worth something, Spain is the country that showed him how to truly love something.

Such a love as they had, such a bond as Romano felt, such a country as Spain…

They are impossible to forget.

~.~.


End file.
